I'm Going To... [remembers Suicide Jokes Are Bad For Your Mental Health] Go To Rusty Lake Mental Health

Absolutely losing it at this Reddit post

And the update

She buttered Jorts

how’s that house that raised you?

Requested by: Anonymous

a meeting of creatures…

my god, this poem brought me to tears.. very well written.

i wrote a twin cinema poem about two gay soldiers in wwi

context: the two sides, read separately, are the two soldiers thinking about their futures with each other. when read together, it's a reflection of their final thoughts when they die together struck by bullets <3

And now for something completely different.

This is the ADHD Teapot. I made it in a ceramics class a few years ago. I use it to explain executive dysfunction to people who haven’t come across the term before (and those who think of ADHD mostly as Hyperactive Eight Year Old Boy Syndrome).

So, most people’s brains are like a regular shaped teapot with a single spout. Let’s say that your time, energy, focus etc is the liquid you have in the teapot. Your executive function is the spout, that directs the tea into the specific cup you want to fill-aka the task that you’re meant to be doing. Spills happen occasionally, but generally most of the tea goes in the right cup.

If you have executive dysfunction, (a symptom of ADHD, trauma, autism, schizophrenia etc.) you have multiple spouts going in different directions. You can try pointing one of them at your chosen cup and you will probably get some liquid in there, perhaps you will even fill it right up (finish the task). But meanwhile, tea is also pouring out of several other places and not going where you want it. If you have another container nearby, perhaps some of it will end up in there. But quite a lot of it is going to end up on the floor and accomplish nothing.

And at the end of the day you’ll have filled one or two cups ( or sometimes not even one) compared to the five or six that somebody with the same sized teapot (but only one spout) has filled, and everyone wonders why you’re so bad at getting tea poured, and why you make such a mess in the process.

One day I’d like to spend more time learning pottery and create a really technically good fucked up little adhd teapot. But that’s a long way off since i currently live in the outback and the nearest pottery workshop is some 400km away. But I figure that for now, it might be a useful or interesting metaphor to somebody even in its rough draft form.

This post is the cup I filled instead of cleaning my house btw.

Midnight is going bat shit insane

there's something wrong with chris

thanks for nothing

she touches me and we are shocked to find my intimate areas thoroughly rotten

soft and jelly-like

my sex sloughs off of my body and hits the floor, slimy liquid landing heavily and melting into the carpet

she rests her hands on my breasts and they rupture, deflating as putrefied fluid dribbles down my body

she attempts to make love to the cavernous void left between my thighs and i feel nothing but insertion and movement

she ends up working herself to completion while i sit on my knees in bed beside her, watching her function so well

i find myself wishing to be like her, ramrod straight and pulsing with blood

the punchline arrives a couple years later, and i’m curled up on the floor of the bathtub, steaming hot water pelting down from the shower head onto my shivering frame

all that and i still don’t know what it’s like 

sword in sheath did not make the blade mine

i finger hopelessly at a harp with no strings, desperate to pluck out a single note from the empty space

it offers me nothing but thick blood and a deep fear of dark nights and solo travel

thanks, i guess